Page 21 of The Fear of Falling
He’s right. The whole reason I ran away this afternoon is because I’ve already strayed too far into something I’m not equipped to handle. That moment in front of the Santa Maria del Fiore, when Avery was talking about her dreams and the bells were ringing and the sun was bathing her in a soft orange light, something flashed through my mind. Not a memory because it hasn’t happened, but the mental image felt like something familiar. I imagined Avery on a hillside, with a spectacular sunset behind her and a white dress hugging her curves.
And I got spooked.
I watch as Riccardo slides into the seat next to Siena and kisses his almost-bride, and his smile is an outward manifestation of feelings I’ve never had. I’ve been pretty content with my life for a long time, willingly choosing an unsettled existence because I’ve never seen myself as the settle-down type. But maybe there’s something to be said for finding the right person and keeping a promise.
I’m not anti-marriage. Never have been. My parents have been married for almost forty years, and my two brothers seem to be happy with their choices to marry young and have big families. But I’ve never seen that kind of life for myself. Not when I’ve always jumped from interest to interest since I was a kid. There’s so much of the world to explore and experience, and something about a settled life is terrifying. What if I missed out on something amazing because I was in a stable career and stuck in one place?
Those fears are why I ran from Avery. If I start thinking about a future with her, how long before I feel too stifled and trapped and have to escape?
Tell her, Riccardo said, and he’s right. Not about telling her about my growing feelings, but I should tell her why I ran away today instead of kissing her. She deserves that much, just as much as she deserves a guy who will stick around after the week is over.
I catch Riccardo’s gaze and gesture to the door with my head, telling him that I’m heading out. He nods, mouthing,Tell her, as Siena nods beside him, and I can’t help but chuckle as I take the stairs down to the street and start walking back to the hotel. He’s a good friend, and I’m glad I made it out here for his wedding. He and Siena deserve every bit of happiness.
Avery does too.
She’s not in the hotel lobby when I get there—why would she be?—and while I technically have her phone number because Isent myself some of the pictures I’ve taken of her over the last couple of days, I don’t want to use it if I don’t have to. Things need to stay casual between us, which means we can’t have a way to stay in touch when we leave Florence.
There’s a good chance Avery is still out and about in the city, unless I broke the part of her that is brave enough to wander without a plan, so talking to her might have to wait until morning. I’d rather it didn’t. If she sleeps on the confusion she undoubtedly feels after my behavior today, she’s going to overthink things and keep her distance from here on out.
That’s a better scenario than keeping things going, but it’s not the one that benefits me so I don’t like it, as selfish as that sounds. I still want to spend time with her. I’m a little desperate for it, honestly. But when I’ve cleared the air, if she chooses not to associate with me anymore, I’ll honor her decision. Even if it sucks.
Giulia is manning the front desk again, and she smiles when she sees me. “Buonasera, signore!” she greets, happy to speak Italian when her hotel is full of Americans and a groom who pretends he’s a local despite barely spending more time here than I have. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Do you remember the woman I gave my room to?”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Sì.”
“Have you seen her today? Is she here? In her room?” That sounds creepy, so I scramble to add an explanation. “I’ve been showing her around Florence, but I had to leave her on her own for a bit tonight, so I want to make sure she’s safe.”
“Ah.” Giulia’s expression turns to worry. “I have not seen her, no. Should we be worried?”
I want to say no, but the unease in my gut says otherwise. I like to think I’m generally concerned for the wellbeing of the people around me, but this feels different from anything I’ve experienced before. Swearing under my breath, I run a handthrough my hair and grab my phone, deciding a text is better than wondering all night if Avery is safe.
“Buonasera, signora!” Giulia says, clear relief in her tone.
I look up, and a wave of the same relief washes over me at the sight of Avery standing a few yards away. “You made it back.”
Avery frowns, glancing between me and the receptionist. “I am capable of doing things on my own, you know. I would have been fine all week without you.”
Ouch. But I deserve that. “Can we talk?” Ugh, those are the worst words in the world, second only toit’s not you, it’s me.
She gazes at the elevator almost longingly. “It’s getting late.”
“Please.” I consider stepping forward and touching her arm, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the conversation we need to have. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”
Sighing, she looks down at the bag of chocolate in her hand and nods. “If it’s quick. I need to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
Man, I must have really done a number on her if she’s worrying about early bedtimes while on vacation. She didn’t care last night when I kept her out past midnight. I don’t want to take the blame for subduing her more adventurous side, but I wasn’t at all careful with our interactions over the last couple of days and likely gave her the wrong idea. I’m used to casual, but she isn’t, and I should have realized we probably weren’t on the same page.
“What do you want to talk about?” Avery asks.
I glance at Giulia, who is unabashedly watching us. “Let’s go out onto the terrace. There’s a nice bench out there by the fountain.” I offer my hand to Avery, but she ignores it and starts walking. Weirdly, her disdain relaxes me so I’m not so keyed up and nervous. If she has already turned against me, we could go without this conversation and be fine.
I shake my head and follow her to the back door. Convenient as it would be to part ways now, I admire Avery too much to leave her hanging. I’d rather get the truth out there—some of it, anyway—and let her decide how we proceed. In my line of work, I make too many decisions for other people as it is, and I shouldn’t do it here.
When she finds the bench, Avery sits on the very end of it in a clear display of wanting to keep distance. I hate it, but I sit at the other end. If we weren’t stuck in an awkward silence backed by the soft splashes from the fountain, this would be the kind of romantic spot that would lead to a lot more than talking. But I’m probably not going to get a kiss from Avery tonight. Or ever.
“What’s this about?” Avery asks again.
